


pressure.

by ElderFairy



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/F, Memory Loss, Semi-Alternative Universe, Stormtrooper Reader, also major ocness sorry, kylo ren is gonna be an ass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-05-30 07:36:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6414730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElderFairy/pseuds/ElderFairy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>you think you love phasma. you think you'll dedicate your whole life to her, both as subordinate and lover. but, do you really think that way deep down? on your first mission to the harsh desert world jakku, a fight gone wrong causes you to lose much of your memories. later, a lone scavenger by the name of rey rescues you and offers to let you stay with her. the emotions which you cannot understand once again resurfaces as time passes. these things not only confuses you, but also confuses rey, who for more than ten years had spent her life alone. meanwhile, you struggle to remember the memories that are lost. the question is: are they really worth remembering?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the weary one

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fanfiction and i am also super thirsty for some fic where the reader is with phasma and rey. so, i decided to write this multi-chapter fic to quench it :> anyways, please enjoy, and do comment! thank you <3 (also, i am sorry for any errors, i never watched star wars tfa and i only know my info from tumblr and wookiepedia)

you vaguely smell the scent of something floral. probably some exotic plant that phasma collected when off-duty. strange, because the captain doesn’t seem like the type to like anything as fragile as a flower. she is a woman built on a foundation of steel and blood, chaos and order, victory and duty. yet, there had been other things in phasma’s room. small trinkets here and there; objects lost to the sands of time and ignorance. sometimes, you wonder if you are one of them, a thing that is lost, but then picked up by phasma’s firm hands.   


unconsciously, you curl deeper against the wall. the three velvet blankets provide a blissful protection that steadies the atmosphere around you. your heart, nonetheless, beats hard and fast in preparation for what is to come next. you let your mind think among the sleepiness, about how your heart is moving so strangely. this feeling is like when in training, those times as you wait your turn to go against a comrade. eventually however, that feeling will burst and some kind of numbness will inject itself into your system as you fight with both fists and weapons. it is a good thing phasma watches over all your combat trainings, you are not exactly capable of stopping your partner once everything reaches a peak.

 a faint buzzing could be heard coming from the bright fluorescent lights. vaguely, you remember how phasma’s voice sounds like as she read off reports. her body would be stretched out on the bed, while you sit or lie next to her in a half-awake state of consciousness. she only offers such casualness when out of armor. sometimes though, she would let slip a little of her private self in the public. the subtle voice change, the small gestures, and all the times she stands close to you-those things are what makes you see the phasma beyond the chrome armor.

 you then shift, and spend the next new minutes finding a comfortable position for your arm to stretch. the bed and sheets are the most comforting when they are cold. then, someone could leave their warmth on them. peeking open your eyes, you recall once how phasma would already be lying on the bed when she asked for your presence. certain memories provide a warmth fluttering gently across your chest; it is a slow undulation between gentleness and a beating harshness. no matter how soft phasma makes her face seem, you will always see her as your captain, first and foremost. which is why no matter what she says, you’ll accept and do it. your loyalty is phasma’s, and then the first order. you wish to tell her that and see how that would change her demeanor, but you could never speak of that out loud. doing so would be a transgression of your soldier’s order. 

 the air shifts, ever so gently, like a needle point upon the water’s surface. that feeling of a presence is familiar, and so you hold your breath and stiffen your body out of habit. you hear her take off her armor pieces and hear the hiss of air coming out as she lifts her helmet, and then there is a sigh. you open your eyes and see phasma running a hand through her short blonde hair, with an unreadable expression on her face. you push your head deeper into the soft bedding beneath, eyes now entirely wide and ready to follow the captain around, lest she speaks. 

even in her flesh and body, phasma is an imposing woman; tall, statuesque, and strong. your jaws slacken, your eyes grow dry as they widen, and a warmth spreads itself across your cheeks. your hands find themselves clammy all of sudden as you watch phasma saunter towards you. at first, your view lingers upon the muscles strewn across her upper body. 

 “what’s wrong, my love?” her deep and rich voice speaks of a subtle worry behind a tone built on command. she stops on the edge of the bed, and leans down until her shadow encases your body and the heat of her skin feels as if they are digging themselves within your vulnerable form. at that moment, your rigid body goes soft, and you turn around so you could face her and stretch your arms out, welcoming her to you. she understands, phasma always understands, so she allows herself to dip down until her face is inches away from yours, until most of her muscular body is on your smaller one. this gesture is old; it is tradition now. but phasma likes it, and you don’t have any qualms with that. 

 “i miss you,” you say. “not because you are gone too long, but just seeing you out of armor and being _you_.” you thread your fingers through phasma’s hair, the latter sighs in contentment as her arms encircle your head. “you don’t have to miss me, because i will _always_ be with you. in mind, spirit, and body. no matter what, you will always have me, i am yours,” phasma replies. she begins peppering your left cheek with kisses that elicits such soft gasps from your mouth. the hand that is once in her hair is now splayed on the back of her head. your thighs unconsciously spread themselves, allowing phasma to place her lower body between them. 

the pressure on your heart is still there, even with the change in weight. it only feels heavier when phasma begins to brush one of her knee against that area between your legs. she smirks, but does only so much as your gasps become a cacophony of little moans and pants. “is that good? do you want me to continue?” she’s doing this so well, as she kisses down your neck, and then…  

“phasma… _wait_.” 

 phasma stops, abruptly. she pulls herself off and settles beside your body. you do not know what her face shows, because your eyes are staring at the ceiling, now blurry in vision. there is wetness in the corner of your eyes, however, you are not sure what that means. you clamp your legs together as one of your hand brushes the wetness away. phasma’s touch left their residue in the forms of ghostly kisses upon the same area of your body she previously touched. you peel off the sheets one by one, as phasma patiently watches you. suddenly, you feel like the whole galaxy has their eyes upon your form, and you feel _naked_.  a 

kind of feeling, unwanted and undesirable, envelopes your flesh. but you didn’t say anything. instead, you utter out: “i’m so sorry, i didn’t intend to stop you.” you could not look into phasma’s eyes, because you fear reprisal and disapproval. you never can tell what she looks like with those emotions written on her, but it is exactly the unknowing that makes you fear them. you could feel bile rising up from the pit of your stomach and your skin begins to quake and tremble. cold sweat breaks out, just as the once tender warmth on your cheek becomes hot. something is off, and the only image you could bring up is the one where phasma kissed you and the way your body reacts to her touches. so when a hand is brought forward to pull you close, you could only whimper and hold off whatever is building up within you. 

 “don’t apologize. i was too bold, and i should have asked first,” phasma says. “i should be the one to say sorry.” you didn’t respond, you only nod your head and accept her words. if that is what she says, then that is what it is. she is the captain, the one whose words are always right. so you only let the gentleness of her embrace and her breathing mediate your inner turmoil. sometimes, serenity is better than even the most gentle of kisses. 

 perhaps many minutes went by, or mere seconds. you are not sure; being with phasma means slowing down time. but then you feel phasma shift, and you immediately dislodge yourself from her embrace. she places her bare feet upon the floor and stands. you look up at her, with hands and knees pressed on the velvet sheets, and both ears and eyes attentive to her person. “your unit will be sent to jakku on a raid soon,” phasma says. “you should prepare in advance.” 

her words strike you as out of the blue, because you are suddenly brought into reality. that is the captain phasma speaking, not your lover. you blink and try to force in the information into your brain. " _that’s right, i will be on the battlefield someday_ ,” you think. the pressure grows in your stomach, and you suddenly feel sick. you look down at the floor, then your gaze climbs upward toward phasma. her face is expressionless again as she waits for an answer. 

 “i understand, captain phasma.” the words feel forced and dry.  there is a silence which dwindles afterward, where you think phasma is going to do or say something, but her figure stands rooted to the spot as her eyes scour your body. probably to sear it once again into her brain, just in case. you chance a try to break the silence, lest you find yourself too attached to her armor-less form. “i’ll try to get more training in, just in case.” your words come out in a hurry and then you scramble up and put on a second layer of clothing that is to be the base of your armor. you are used to that, but later on pieces of metal will suffocate all of that human flesh. you try not to think of that as your hurriedly leave phasma’s room. though, not before you hear her voice call you. 

 “em-2034.” 

 you pause, and turn your head towards the woman after she calls your name. she crosses the gap between the two of you, and soon, you found your cheeks in her hands and her lips on your forehead. then, she withdraws, but her eyes still hold you to your spot as she finishes her sentence. “don’t forget what i said before.” there is no answer from you, but you are sure she knows what you are thinking, and that she needs no words to be spoken. already, her powerful presence has staked its claim, and it’s going to be there as you fight your battle.

                                                      

 the empty corridor’s silence is interrupted by the sound of your feet upon the ground. the destination is quite a distance between phasma’s room, and you couldn’t help but feel like it’s only natural that it is. you only wish that your physical condition is up to par with your captain’s. which means you must get more training done later on, and _maybe_ you will be able to accompany phasma on her patrols in the distant future. all you should accomplish right now is how to hit targets. _“one-hit kills, that is what i am trained for_ ,” you repeat that mantra over and over as you increase your pace, but you stop and feel a prickling sensation upon the back of your neck. the air suddenly feels stifling and warm, but it’s not normal, as you stop and breathe in and out. 

then, you see him, coming into view like a black wraith. 

he is in no rush, but his pace is always fast as if he is. maybe he is in a rush, but you’ve seen so much of him that you automatically assume that it is his default movement pace. nevertheless, you press your shoulder against the wall, hoping to skim past him without letting your fear surface. phasma once told you that he can hear thoughts, so might as well keep your mind empty for now. 

 “you are hiding too much,” his modulated voice speaks. you shiver and stop your movement, and then you turn and gaze at his back. power and authority transcends him, just like how it does with phasma and the general. but what the other two lack is direct danger. this feeling is even more tangible when you are some mere feet away from him. “don’t think i cannot dig into your hidden thoughts, soldier.” he turns, and that is when you see the metallic mask. he isn’t wearing his cowl today, but he’s still a sight to behold. 

 “kylo ren,” you stop yourself as fast as possible as the realization dawns upon you that you did not address him in the proper manner. “no, lord ren, i’m sorry for my improper usage of your name.” curtly, you give him a nod, while your eyes shun his form for the hard floor underneath. vaguely, you hear something coming from him, a strange metallic clicking sound repeating over and over. you have to slightly strain yourself to discern what it is; is he… _chuckling_? 

 “how strange, these names, do you really think i care as much as hux and phasma would?” kylo ren asks. he takes a step forward while you withdraw enough that your back hits the wall. cold sweat is once again plastered upon your skin, and your body is shaking from the fear his presence instills upon your meager being. at first, kylo ren’s right arm twitches, but then he must have changed his mind. instead, his masked form merely looks in your direction, and you are sure he is picking you apart. a small part of you wonder what he looks like underneath. alien? old? or young like hux? “don’t think too much, either,” he says. 

your lips tremble but you want to say something, but because of your trembling lips you couldn’t say anything. 

“sorry, sir,” you finally stammer out. your hands are now pressed against the wall too. the legs that are once carrying you forward feels like jelly. but you hear him and listen to his every word, but now that you think... _"no, no, no, don’t think!”_ again, you hear him chuckle and you are certain kylo ren is toying with you. 

 “you ought to call for phasma now, i won’t hurt her.” “why would i do that?” your reply is abrupt, and almost loud enough that it feels like a normal conversation between the two of you. “you think you are yourself when you are with her?” kylo says, or rather, questions. his left hand rises, fingers extending towards your face, but never touching. your eyes close and your breath fails to deliver. something is being pulled from you, invisible and solid at the same time. blood immediately rushes forth in a quick burst; your mind feels like it is beginning to crack little by little. just when you think you are going to crumble, kylo ren stops whatever he is doing. “come now, that isn’t too bad.” his voice could have seem amused if it is not for the mask. or maybe you just want to give him more human qualities than what he truly owned. 

the next thing you see as you open your eyes is kylo ren’s back as he walks away, but not before he stops in his tracks and turns his head toward you. “i wonder what phasma would say, if she knows what you truly think of her.” with those parting words, he leaves in a flurry of black. you, on the other hand, still can feel the residual traces of his power over you, and the lingering words he left behind. 


	2. stone heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _in which you feel like everything is too much but you still have to fight for your captain and the first order. the line between a soldier and a machine becomes disconnected, and you are afraid._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yoo sorry about the lateness in updating. but i want to tell you guys that this will have an indefinite update speed due to school and motivation. anyways, this chapter is to gain more insight on reader, and also ascertain that kylo ren will be portrayed as an asshole in this fic :D i actually want more fluff between phasma and reader, but with the setting, it's impossible to do much. also, sorry about breaking any canons. i tried to do as much research, but 90% of it fell on characterization >.>
> 
> Please talk to me on Tumblr @fairie-type!

you remembered the first time you met phasma. as in, truly met her. those moments where she was just _captain_ phasma was something else. that day was special, something treasured, and something like a lost relic in time. that was how phasma puts it whenever she recalled that day, or the days between the now and before. in any case, you remember because these memories collected upon your captain’s image. every time you see her, you would think back to the events that slowly became the foundation of your relationship. even now, the moment where she took off her helmet for the first time is tattooed upon your brain. how your breathing became erratic, and then stopped for a split second. how you suddenly felt impossibly warm and _light_ headed as you saw the flesh slowly appearing inch by inch. then, her eyes, her striking blue eyes, and finally, her blonde hair. you also remembered, no _fel_ t, her armored hands _gently_ touching you. that time, your body was just in its undershirt, so you could feel the pressure of her touches upon your arm, your shoulder, and your cheek. but it wasn’t enough, you realized. gods, what did she say back then? she was the one who made the move, and also the one who warned you of the danger of being in a relationship with her. but could you say no to her? could you? she was your captain, so your assumption back then was to say ‘yes’ by default, just like with every other superior, and ‘yes’ you did. no objections, no regrets, and no doubts. her heart had already jailed your own from the moment you saw her as a human being. 

the sleek black armor looks like they belong to somebody else. from the moment you saw them, your eyes became apprehensive of their objective. as if they are sentient, like droids, or maybe aliens. you are not sure which, but a part of you tells yourself that you cannot be in them, that you couldn’t possibly fit in them. you still put them on though, still let your human flesh be covered by the cold blackness of the pieces that fit you so well. but, you refuse to put on the helmet. so, you sit there, in the docking bay as your comrades wait for a command. the transporter is already here; that massive hulking piece so ugly that you cringe. in fact, you think you have a negative reaction to everything the moment you woke up this morning. something about this mission and your presence in it is off-putting. your heart wants to jump from its cage the moment you arrived.

since there is still time before departure, what with waiting for captain phasma to arrive, you decide the best thing to do is to not put on your helmet at all until the last possible minute. you hear one of your unit call to you, inquiring about why your helmet still isn’t on, or why you look so tense. “ _not tense, but scared…_ ” you want to tell them that, but your words are frozen in your throat. you only stiffen more and tilt your head slightly. despite how intimidating the armor is, you know you can move in it like normal. but your emotions are preventing you from doing so. “ _i do not want these things, i am a darktrooper, and i must be emotionless!_ ” inwardly, you want to berate more of yourself, until you see captain phasma walking towards you. she has her helmet on, and for a brief moment, you forgot she is also the phasma who you love. immediately, your stance straightens, and you salute her. she acknowledges everyone else first, and dismisses them. then, she turns to you. you want to ask her to take off her helmet, but you know this is not appropriate for many reasons. “ _she’ll take it off after the mission. just be patient, and wait._ ” 

“em-2034, you should be wearing your helmet,” phasma’s mechanized voice speaks to you in the same disciplined but firm tone she spoke to the troopers. yes, this is captain phasma, not phasma the one who would worship you with kisses and touches. the thought must have changed your expression, and for a moment, you are unable to answer. the next thing you know, captain phasma is closing in. she reaches out, and you have a flashback of you and her back in her quarters, legs tangled, and with arms around each other. she grabs the helmet from you, and suddenly, you can breathe normally. “if you do not wear it, i will be obliged to make you wear it.” she then closes more distance as she can, leans in, and whispers: “are you nervous, my love?” 

you suddenly feel like you want to hold her close. but, the danger of being seen are imminent in public area and also will call for insubordination. you open your mouth to speak, but no words come out, because suddenly you remember the words imposed onto you by the dark knight kylo ren. a pang of guilt surges into you, and you feel like you want to crumble beneath captain phasma’s tall form. “no…i mean, yes, i am,” you finally reply. inwardly, you are surprised by the calmness in your voice. that, however, only means of how frazzled your mind is right now from the emotions that are tightening themselves around you. 

captain phasma is silent for a moment; she is likely studying you for any expressions. to her, you are an open book. hell, not even you can read yourself. something about this makes you uneasy, but she _is_ your superior, and so you guess it’s natural, as always. 

“do you remember what i said, em-2034?” she is whispering now, and close enough that no words can be heard between the two of you. “i will _always_ be with you: mind, spirit, and body. as long as you need me, or want me, i will be there.” another silence follows, one which you think is her letting you think about what to say or react. but you didn’t do anything; all you did is look at her helmet as your feet shifts around. 

“yes ma’am, i remember,” you finally say. you then lower your eyes and turn your head slightly. phasma’s cold armored fingers gently turn your face around then, a bold and audacious move which makes you widen your eyes. looking again at her, you wonder what expression she is hiding, and whether if that expression is the tender and gentle phasma you see in private. the coldness of her digits are now warmed by the heat of your cheeks, or they just feel so _right_ (but also wrong) that your skin tolerates the steel material. you close your eyes for a second, before you feel captain phasma move in front of you. she shifts her hand down, and presses it upon your shoulder. 

“relax, em-2034.” on command, you, slowly try to ease some tension away as best you can. 

“i have faith in you, but keep close to me on the battlefield, alright?” she then withdraws her hand and steps back a little. your eyes gaze at the gleaming black helmet in her hand. a small part of you hopes that she will grant you a reprieve and let you fight without a helmet on. that’s impossible, though, so why are you even thinking about that? you watch as phasma raise the helmet, and as if your body is on auto, your knees bend down a bit. “now, let me put this on for you.” 

time stops, your breathing, once again, feels hard impossible to make. the helmet descends upon you like a gaping mouth, and you try to keep your eyes on phasma. but no relief comes, not even the words that you try to summon can soothe your heavy heart. you want to wear this helmet, you realize, because captain phasma wants you to, and you also believe wearing this could be the proof of your loyalty to the first order. at the same time, you do not want to wear it, it’s not right on you; it makes you less of a human, but more like a _machine_. your eyes close; you might as well let darkness soothe you now, even if it’s just for a moment. 

you feel the leather interior enclose around you, and then feel the thin covering that separates you from the actual steel. soon, your mind and body feel like it’s light enough to float. a sense of detachment follows, one where you feel like you could do anything without much thought to the repercussions of it. something crackles, both the private and public communication links are turned on, followed by a brief static sound. faintly, you could hear the breathing of your unit, and you remember that those men and women are _sentient_ , not machines. no, never machines. 

“are you ready?” you hear captain phasma’s voice through the communication link. you open your eyes, finally, and see her shape through infrared vision. you nod, as best as you can, and you are sure you managed a ‘yes.’ “good, follow me.” you trail behind her; a heavy feeling is growing in the pit of your stomach. your legs feel like an automaton and its not listening to your brain. still, you feel light headed, and your consciousness is afloat. you then feel someone hand you your weapon, a crossbow, and you get ready to board the transporter. 

but, before you could, something interrupts the communication link. an incoming call from someone outside of the docking bay. for a moment, you think this is an error on their part, and they will hang up soon. unfortunately, the caller is kylo ren. you pause in your path, and slowly, you say: “yes, sir?” you are dreading his voice that only you can hear. already, it is like having his presence near you. 

“em-2034, is it?” he asks. 

“y-yes, sir,” you reply. you then look at the entrance to the transporter and see captain phasma staring at you, before walking away further into the carrier. ren only wants you to hear what he is going to say. 

“why are you so afraid of me? i am here just to ask you to pass along a message to your dear captain,” his voice drones on. 

“oh no, i wasn’t afraid, sir,” you say quickly. inside, you hope phasma would intervene, even if she cannot hear what kylo is saying. though, why can’t he just directly call to phasma? why to you first? “and yes, i can relay your message to her.” you then give a tentative survey of the docking bay, in case you actually see the knight somewhere. either he is in hiding or he isn’t even here. hopefully, it is the latter. 

“good. tell her to ensure the mission is fully complete-no survivors,” kylo ren’s voice breaks your thought, and you almost jump at the sudden intrusion. “also, tell her that _kylo ren have you two in his thought_ , understand?” 

“yes, sir.” 

he says nothing in return, but you could imagine him to be satisfied with your answer. even so, you could not think of giving phasma the latter of his message. right now, you are sure kylo ren is taunting you. he knows your unconscious thoughts, and it makes you feel uneasy to know that he does. by now, you are also sure kylo ren has the capability to be omnipresent. he is, after all, a proficient, if not experienced, force user. you only hope that he isn’t quite as near to detect your thoughts right now. because you don’t want to relay _that_ message. then again, you didn’t want to tell phasma of the former, either. 

the units are divided into two lines, each with three stormtroopers. you are the odd one out, the one against the back of the transporter, but also the first to go out after landing. however, captain phasma is by your side. your fingers skim over the crossbow that was a secret gift from phasma in your early days of your relationship. just like her armor, the handle is given a chrome finish. the arrows are made of similar components from regular blaster rifles to ensure an unending supply. such a high-tech weapon could only be found here within the first order. despite it being a weapon for murder, you treasured it. “em-2034,” phasma’s voice calls to you from the link, which is set to private by her. you think she still believes you to be scared, or nervous, or something which you shouldn’t be feeling. in fact, you cannot express emotions at all, especially in front of the captain. but, she knows that, and she also understands the fine line between lover and subordinate. with that in thought, you turn to her. 

“yes, captain?” the repetition of saying yes and yes over again makes you wonder if you are just automatically saying this with no thought in mind. it both scares and relieves you; one, because you are feeling more like a droid or machine, and two, because you want to be an obedient soldier. another part of you wants to chastise you for being so obsessive with these thoughts. 

“my trust in you is unsurpassed, even more so than this unit before us. but, you also need to understand your worth not only to me, but to the order. _don’t make any mistakes_.” captain phasma says. her last words come out much more firm. it is like a gentle ebbing turned solid. you are not sure why, an intrusive thought comes along, one where you wonder what how phasma will react if kylo ren tells her about what he saw in your mind… 

“i won’t, captain. i will fight until I am dea--” 

“don’t say that, soldier.” captain phasma quickly intervenes. immediately, you sense your lover despite the composure in both her words and stance. “nobody will take you, i will make sure of it.” in your head, you imagine phasma with that face she lets you see. the one that isn’t all discipline, but something better, with her lips quirking up and her eyes shining not from battle lust but from something else. 

“and i will be by your side, for however long you want me there.” 

something tells you she is appeased by your reply. so mild-mannered and kind, that’s what phasma said you always sound like. she also said how that was the reason she is drawn to you. your grip on your crossbow tightens suddenly. the stone in your heart is formed in full and it’s making you uncomfortable and scared. so, you return your eyes to the front. you have your infrared turned off and the view is just that of six perfectly aligned soldiers. though you can hear their breathing from the public communication link, you still find it hard to imagine that something blood and flesh is in them. but you are also in armor, you are also blood and flesh underneath, and so is phasma. “ _just think about the mission, the mission_...” 

the mantra you chanted soothes you. your brain stops functioning in the right places at that very moment as your infrared turns on. the carrier is almost at its destination. jakku, an inhospitable planet of desert, and a village settlement that made its home there. your mission is to find resistance members in hiding, flush them out, and finish them before they escape. as for the villagers, well, you hope they won’t get in the way. 

“we are almost here, soldiers. prepare your weapons!” captain phasma’s voice rings like a victory song over the public communication link in each soldier’s helmet. your blood begins to boil on its own accord and your mind whirrs as you await the opening of the hatch. “make us proud, soldiers. make _me_ proud.” 

the world suddenly lights up, shakes, and disorients you as you rush out to the warzone.


	3. black tide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry for the wait. also, what is logistics because i see none in this chapter. i am also struggling with writer's block and lack of motivation. the next chapter will be better, i promise!
> 
> come talk to me on tumblr @fairie-type <3

when you were training, everything was simple and straightforward. hit this target, hit that target, deflect your partner’s blow, knock down your partner. but this is reality, a reality in which real screams, both in panic and terror, resonates into your center. though you still haven’t aimed nor shot someone, you already feel as if your hands are stained in the red of these villagers. the mission is to find (you already lost the details actually) something or someone, isn’t it? so why must there be a massacre? who ordered this to be made? you could only think back to kylo ren, who despite being the commander, did not come along. “ _was this what kylo ren wanted? **death**_ ” he wants the blood to be on his underlings’ hands, not his.

you try to stick to phasma, but everything is so confusing and chaotic that there is already a good ten feet between you and her. the communication link is uncomfortably silent; it looks like everyone is too focused on killing these people that they forgot how to make any noise. you grip your crossbow to your chest as you trudge onward, desperately trying to look for phasma, and desperately trying to make it seem like you are doing something. the crossbow is still not poised to shoot; its sole purpose is for now of comfort, so that you have something tangible to calm your mind. to shoot a villager versus do nothing is waging a battle within you, and you are not sure which to pick. 

“kill them all! _this is a command_.” that is phasma on the public comm. all of a sudden, you feel like you are not listening to your captain at all, but some other woman who you did not know anything about. you freeze then, looking around the scene, seeing a woman being shot down and trampled; another man being pushed to the ground and then shot on the back of his head, and another, this time a smaller figure, being shot multiple times by a ‘trooper. you gasp, and a feeling of fear appears within you. how is this a search mission? this is a definitely _massacre_ mission. 

“resistance members, incoming!” 

you look up, and there, standing in civilian uniforms, are several individuals with blaster rifles in hand. they begin to shoot at the ‘troopers, the latter of whom started shouting as well. terror, despair, and horror, those are the emotions that you can distinctly identify as your comrades fall one by one. in a matter of seconds, you could see bodies lying around you, and you yourself is running now, scared for your life. 

“phasma?” you call out. “phasma!” her name becomes a life line as you seek out the chrome captain. you spot her somewhere far off, engaging in combat with what seems to be a resistance member. she is using her blaster rifle as a weapon, repeatedly striking them upon their shoulder until they fall. then, she shoots them, once, twice, three times. you stop and suddenly, you are looking around for a place to hide. not because you want to hide in self-defense (a part of you do), but because you need to do _something_. phasma and the surviving stormtroopers are being outnumbered, it looks like. 

you manage to duck behind a house, and ready your crossbow as you take aim at the moving bodies. you press your finger to the trigger, and shoot. the resistance member’s body slumps to the ground instantaneously. someone screams, and you look up to see a figure running as they point their blaster rifle at you. for a moment, you forget how to move, and so you stood there, like a prey caught under the eyes of a predator. 

a flash of chrome appears out of the blue, pushing the attacker to the left. you manage to slip out of your stupor now, noticing that the one who saved you was captain phasma herself. there is someone trying to make a connection in the private communication link, but they stop suddenly. you frantically look around to see bodies colliding and the glow of the blaster rifle streaking through. your body again stops listening as every muscle in you loosens. you are not certain of what is happening. but, you are aware that this may be the last time you will ever be alive. since the resistance members being here, you and your unit will stand no chance. not even with phasma there, as you watch her engage in close combat with not one, but two people. 

your shaking hands try to steady your crossbow, as your mind rushes you to aid your captain. but, something heavy collides on top of you, and the next thing you know, you are struggling with another human. they are talking, something about death and massacre and evil. you couldn’t hear them clearly, not when your mind is tumbling with intense fear and panic. however, you did register your left arm going up and bringing the butt of the crossbow down, effectively hitting the chrome handle against the attacker’s shoulder. still, they keep on attacking you with blow after blow. slowly, you begin to feel weak and tired; the notion of letting go is slowly creeping into your mind like dirtied water. perhaps you can let this person end you, at least this will appease someone, just not the captain. 

yet, they did not end you. nor did they attempt to harm you any further. the next thing you know, you are being hauled away. by now, your physical body has gone slack, to the point where you can’t pinpoint just which direction they are taking you. nor do you really care; besides the tears streaming out of your eyes, you really don’t feel much emotion. there is only numbness in your body and soul. 

“i won’t let the villagers and my comrades die in vain. you bastards will receive what they experienced ten times worse!” 

some kind of equipment comes to life with a hum and shake. finally, a starfighter that must have been landed outside of the village. is he going to run you over with that? or somehow drop you from the ground… no, that sounds impossible. 

he shoves you toward one of the wings, and then proceeds to catch both of your wrists in his hands. that is when you realized that your crossbow is gone, and suddenly, everything feels hopeless. “ _this is it, i am going to die._ ” you still manage to think calmly now that you realize that death is inevitable. you are not sure why but meeting an end wouldn’t be as bad as you thought. on other days, you would think you are going mad, but now, it seems like a better option than to fail a mission while simultaneously feeling guilty about being a part of it. 

the man ties your wrist to one of the wings. you vaguely wonder if the starfighter will even go up with an additional weight on one side. soon, your question is given an answer when you feel your feet dangle off the ground. the starfighter manages to fly a great amount of distance with incredible speed. you are not sure what your body is doing; for the most part, it is akin to some sort of limp doll. 

the plane climbs up, up, and up. and then the cord binding together your wrists snap. when you fall, your mind is blank. you still feel lightheaded and weightless, yes, but some of the pressure is gone, and you close your eyes.


	4. the girl burying time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am like so so sorry for how long it took me to update. rey is a pain to write despite how seemingly simple she is character-wise. also, i hc that her speeder sear is slightly bigger, but not big enough to comfortably seat two people.

rey could not remember how long she had been on jakku. months bled into years, and years bled into eternity. for all she knew, she could had been born here, but she knows that this isn’t true. and when she even so much as doubts her own history, she would reprimand herself. then, she would tell herself that somewhere, her family is thinking about her. somewhere, in this unfathomable galaxy, someone is yearning to be by her side, and she, theirs. but not here, never here, because it’s jakku. this harsh and chaotic landscape, ugly, and garish, with aliens that are either tolerant or hostile to her presence. perhaps, that is why rey, though wanting to feel a touch of softness upon her heart, hid her kindness deep within the cocoon of doubt and unease. 

“half a quarter.” 

unkar plutt’s deep voice booms out as he slaps down the miniscule food rations down in front of a disheveled, and a seething rey. she looks at the ration, and then back to the alien, as if silently questioning her own ears and eyes. 

“you can’t be right! these materials could still be put into working ships!” rey says. “what more do you want?” a small part of her, a nagging voice that she is trying to push back, suddenly springs out. that voice is telling her to take the ration, because unkar plutt will _not_ be fair. never. “you know _exactly_ how much this salvage is worth; you are purposefully robbing me of my ration!” rey’s hands balled into fists as she glares at the alien before her. despite how much she is quivering, how much she is trying to just _throttle_ him, she knows she cannot do that. not when there’s something separating them, and not when he’s literally the only being on this planet whose job is to give out food and supplies. 

unkar plutt only grunts, and repeats what he said. rey admits her defeat, again, and with silent anger, takes the portion of food, turns around, and gets ready to head back to her speeder. however, she did not go far before something catches her eyes. another alien in the line behind her has someone dragged behind them. an unconscious _human_ girl, with torn dark clothing, bruises, and scars old and new. before the alien could step forward, rey blocks them. 

“they cannot be traded.” she says. the alien spits out a strand of reply, to which she thinks means _leave and mind your own business, tooke_. rey rolls her eyes, and says, “i said: _they cannot be traded_.” she then makes an attempt at grabbing the unconscious human, but the alien holding them moves. rey could have sworn she heard a whimper, and a physical twitch coming from the girl. her mouth opens and closes, as both curiosity and worry saturates her emotions. 

“no ration. worthless _salvage_.” that is unkar plutt’s voice just now, and as rey looks up, she realizes that the alien has left the limp girl’s body drop on the ground, now useless to them. she quickly hurries to her side, and kneels down. the unconscious one has somehow turned to her side, and is curling into a fetal position. she looks hurt, and weak, much too weak and battered to have simply been unconscious from dehydration. 

at first, rey wants to talk to her, ask her about herself. but, words failed her as the first thought isn’t ‘are you alright’ but ‘i cannot believe another human is here.’ rey’s hands immediately touches the girl’s bare arm; skin, yes, human skin. she would have been lost, if not for a groan from the girl. rey shakes herself, and briefly wonders why she is ogling her, finally, she decides that the best thing she can do is to pick her up. 

slipping one hand under her knees, and another under her shoulder, the scavenger takes her back to her speeder. the machine is meant to fit only one person, but the girl in her arms is small enough to fit, maybe. but the eventual conclusion is that the seat still cannot comfortably adjust to two people, no matter the size. now, rey not only has to feel a slight squeeze to her body, but also make sure she’s not driving the speeder too fast lest the other girl falls off. 

“looks like we’ll be heading home later than usual,” rey says, and sighs. after she said this, she could have sworn the strange girl grunts, as if she is replying. what truly surprises rey though, is the feeling of warmth upon her back, since now her body is a pillar of support. lightly shaking her head, rey starts her speeder and drives off into the sprawling desert. 

on the way, the declined speed she is going at actually forces her to start thinking about the possibility of meeting this human. however, rey soon remembers the reality is that her at-at would be too small for both of them to fit, just like the speeder right now. food would be a major problem as well, and water too. with her legs dangling, and her arm off of the handlebars and the speeder slowing to a stop, rey wanders if it’s a good decision to actually take this girl back. she could just lay the girl’s body here, and have fate decide for her. or, she could take her back, and endure however long nights with her. 

besides the gentle hum of the speeder, and her own breaths, rey could hear the girl’s own breathing, and heartbeat. she then looks at the empty surrounding, and flashbacks of her childhood comes crawling up. the child rey’s voice speaks within her head like a mantra, calling for her family even as they disappeared into the sky. then, the years of loneliness, and hunger for survival comes. rey’s heart clenches in that instant, and her eyes close. 

what is she doing? she cannot leave this defenseless girl alone, not when she could be sold to unscrupulous _alien_ merchants. and, maybe someone out there is looking for her…

perhaps, this girl is just like her: left on jakku by her family, and now all alone, like her too. what else could she do besides extend her own kindness to her? after all, this girl is a human being, and surely she will understand her plight. perhaps later on, she can finally have someone to talk to. unless she turns out to be someone with a thuggish personality, like those merchants she met in niima outpost. 

no, she cannot think like that! this girl is still unconscious and injured, so why is she thinking all of this? the most she can hope for right now is to save this girl, and then she can worry later.


End file.
